America's Addiction
by AnimeLover2013-17
Summary: Just another World Meeting at America's place. England decided to come early to make sure this meeting wouldent be a giant nightmare like last time. But a horrifying discovery awaits for him when he arrives... (Rating for Drug use and language) (England/BritainxAmerica)
1. Chapter 1

Ch. 1

England walked up the stairs leading out of the sub-station and grimaced.

"America really needs to get his countries pollution under control." He muttered under his breath. Even America's capital had more trash on the street than anywhere in London. Even though he heard they were trying to get it under control, they weren't doing a very good job.

England rolled his eyes as he walked up to the curb. He raised his arm to hail an incoming taxi, only for the bright yellow car to speed past him. England scowled and turned back to the road, searching for another one of the bright yellow cars.

The only reason he was here in this country was because of the upcoming World Meeting. America was the host. Again.

England practically had to run in front of the next incoming taxi to get it to stop. He climbed inside and told the driver to take him to the White House. The cab started to roll forward and had only made it to the first turn before getting stuck in the traffic. England sighed and leaned back in his seat, preparing himself for a long drive.

It was a good thing he came early. He was probably going to be in the car for a while, and he really wanted to make sure this meeting was not a disaster like the last meeting that America hosted. The last time, well lets just say it had given him nightmares for weeks.

Those were the only two reasons he was here three hours early to make sure this meeting was going to be something less life threatening.

The cab stopped suddenly, jarring England in his seat. He opened is eyes in surprise and looked to find the reason of the sudden stop. The cab had parked unevenly a few blocks away from the White House. The traffic was too bad for the driver to get any closer and let its increasingly frustrated passenger out without causing an accident.

England resisted the urge to roll his eyes and pulled out his wallet to pay the driver. He muttered a thanks' as he clamored out of the vehicle. England ignored the front doors of the White House and walked around the perimeter of the building until he reached a fairly well hidden side door that lead to a private wing that was meant for all the World Meetings that America hosted. The wing also had enough rooms for everyone if the meeting had to continue on late into the night and for those who didn't want to find a hotel.

England pulled out the key that had been issued to all the countries and unlocked the door to the building.

"America?" he called as he entered the door. He made sure to lock it behind him. The last thing anyone would want is for a few humans to come in and read the documents in here. They didn't want anyone to know about their existence as countries.

"America? I know you're in here. You should be setting up for the others!" England yelled into the silent wing. England blinked. The _silent_ wing? America was loud. There was no way that he could be this quiet if he tried. England got an uneasy feeling and suddenly missed Flying Mint Bunny and awful lot

Deciding it was probably a bad idea to leave America alone in these circumstances, England walked down the hall to America's room to see if he was asleep and/or sick.

England knocked on America's door.

"America? Are you in there?"

England waited a moment before he heard a small noise behind the door, and then a panicked shout.

"England? W-what are you doing here so early? The meeting doesn't start for another two hours!"

"Yes I know. I called earlier to say I was coming early. I think it was your alien friend who picked up. Didn't he tell you what I said in my message?"

There was a pause.

"No."

England sighed and turned the door handle.

"W-wait a minute! Don't come in!" America was making a lot of noise behind the door. But then again, he was America, when was he not making noise?

England pushed open to door to look inside.

"Really America what could you possibly be doing… What-WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING?"

Authors Note

I just want to say really quickly I don't think America is doing what you think he is! I'm a little stuck on how to continue but an update will certainly be up by no later than next week. (I don't like it either when people take forever in updating. too much suspense.) Please Comment so I know how im doing! Criticism is welcomed!


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note: Wow I was ****_not_**** expecting to get another chapter out today... I guess this says something about my having-too much free time... Now then before I bore you, here is the second chapter!**

Ch 2

England stood in the open doorway in absolute shock. The first thing that registered in his brain was the leather belt that was wrapped tightly around America's arm. One end was clenched in his teeth, keeping it taut.

England blinked, his eyes flickering over to the syringe held in America's hand with the needle pressed against the crook of his arm.

England looked over to America's face. His glasses were gone, over on the bedside table, leaving no barrier between the shocked blue orbs from meeting the frightened green ones.

America let go of the belt held in him mouth.

"England I-I asked you not to come in here. I asked for you to-"

"Wait?" England wasn't in shock anymore. Instead he stood with his fists clenched, trembling in his shock and growing anger. "What did you want me to wait for?" England practically screamed at America. "For you to jab yourself with that filthy needle? You bloody git, I thought you were better than this! I thought you had better sense than to do this! I don't understand what would make you fall so low as to do something as stupid and as-as bloody ignorant and-and so-" England broke off and turned away from America, not wanting him to see the tears gathering in his eyes.

As England yelled at him, America had placed syringe on the table and removed the leather strap. He grabbed his glasses and put them on as he stood.

America looked at England, who looked like he was trying hard not to cry. America walked over to him, but didn't move to touch him.

"England, why are you here?" America asked softly.

England looked at him scowling, but there were still tears in his eyes.

"I already told you, I'm here to help you set up for the meeting you bloody wanker! Besides, you're changing the subject. Why were you-"

"That's not what I meant." America interrupted.

England blinked. "What?"

America looked away from England. "I mean, why are you _here_? I mean, normally you would just wait for me to come to meet you in the front room. Maybe make some tea. Why did you-" America broke off awkwardly and shuffled his feet around. "Never mind."

England gaped at America. "You want to know why I came to look for you, is that it?"

America scowled. "You make it sound like I actually _care_. Don't get that idea damn Brit. And what did you think you were doing just rushing into my room like that? I could have been doing something even more private and embarrassing than that!"

England was shaking in anger. "Like what America? What else could you possibly be doing that would be more shocking than this?"

Before the American could respond England continued.

"I suppose this is why your country is so strong am I right?"

America grimaced. He had _really_ been hoping that England wouldn't notice that. "Well-um that's not necessarily true. I mean-I didn't think that it would do _that_, but it isn't really the only reason that I'm-"

England raised a bushy eyebrow as America rambled, desperately trying to find a good reason as to why the drug wasn't the cause to his strength.

"I wonder what the others would do it they found out you're little secret?" England interrupted him mid-ramble.

America froze. "You wouldn't."

"Wouldn't I?" England challenged him. "I would do it." England narrowed his eyes, "But I won't."

America visibly relaxed, "Thank you dude. You have no idea what would happen if-"

"I'm not doing it to be nice America." England scowled, "I want you to do something in return."

America held up a finger to make England stop, so he could mentally prepare himself for what was coming. He took a deep breath. "Alright, lay it on me."

England looked at him, "I want a full explanation. Why you are doing this, and for how long." He glowered at America, "And no skimpy answers. I want the bloody truth."

America swallowed. No matter how long he had prepared himself, there was no way he could ever be ready to talk to England about _this_. "Now?"

England shook his head. "No. We need to get ready for the Meeting now. Tell me afterwards."

America hesitated. It was a no-brainer. He couldn't let this get out to the other countries. He nodded and followed England out of the room.

**Authors note: I have no idea how many of you thought of this as the reason but here it is! I got this out really fast. Who knows I may even get out the chapter saying why he's doing it out today too... We will see. I dont think I'm going to say what drug he's using and instead leave it to you'r imagination. Well, if there are enough people who review saying they want to know, I'll come up with somthing.**

**I'll see you lot in the next Chapter! **

**C****_iao!_**


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors note: I am so tired. So I had to clean the house ****_and_**** I got another Chapter out. That should tell you how much I love you guys. All else that I will tell you is I have a newfound respect for housecleaners.**

Ch 3

There really wasn't much that needed to be done to set up. Really all they needed to do were a few simple chores, mainly for the other countries. Which was probably a good thing. As soon as America was done setting up, he left in search of Tony. England couldn't help but feel bad for the little guy. As much as he hated the alien, if it wasn't for his faulty memory America wouldn't have been so careless. And if England was being honest with himself, this is what he preferred anyway. England never liked being kept in the dark, so as much as the truth hurt him, its what he'd rather know than a lie.

Now that he knew what America was so strong, so many questions kept popping up in his head. Many of them about wars America had gotten himself into. If he hadn't been using those drugs, England didn't think they would have won World War II. He didn't like the drug, but even England had to admit, it had helped on more than one occasion.

England scowled at himself. Even if it had helped, he didn't want it happening anymore. He couldn't have told anyone. Yet. Probably if after a long while and America didn't stop, he would tell someone. He couldn't keep doing this to himself, and his country. He needed to take some responsibility.

As he was deep in thought, England didn't hear anyone coming inside the building.

"England?" The person in name looked up, smiling when he spotted Canada poking his head around the corner.

"Canada. You've gotten here rather early." England greeted him. England was actually quite pleased he could recognize Canada on the spot most of the time now. A few times before, he had mistaken Canada for America. But that was before he really understood the differences between the two. Now he could tell the difference nine times out of ten.

Canada nodded at his remark. "I wanted to get here a little earlier to help America a bit." He explained in his soft manner, "But it looks like you beat me to it."

England chuckled, "Just by a bit." England checked his watch. It was still a half-hour before the meeting started.

Canada walked over to England and looked at him curiously. "Are you OK? You look like you have something that's bothering you."

England blinked and looked at Canada. "Am I really that open to you?"

Canada smiled, "Not normally. Normally you are much more poker-faced. At least you are when you want to be. What happened?"

England looked at him for another minute, and then shook his head. "I can't really talk about it."

Canada's smile faded away until he was frowning in confusion at the Brit. "What do you mean 'can't talk about it'? Did something between you and my brother?"

England did his best to hide his shock. "No. That's not - I just can't talk about it alright?"

Canada did his best not to feel hurt. It was none of his business after all.

"Did you see your brother when you came in by any chance?" England asked Canada.

"No. I thought since you had been here longer you would know."

England shook his head, "No. He ran away right after we were done setting up for the Meeting."

Canada shrugged. "He's America. I if know my brother, he'll show up right before the meeting starts."

England nodded. He tensed suddenly as a thought entered his head.

"I'll be right back Canada, I need to check something before the Meeting starts."

Canada looked at him, "Alright. I'll keep an eye out for America."

England nodded and did his best not to run out into the hallway. Once he was out of Canada's line of sight he broke into a run, heading for America's room. He flung open the door and looked around.

The American wasn't in there, but the belt was gone. England looked over to the nightstand where America had put the syringe before. It was still there. England frowned and walked over to it. He picked up the needle and looked at it. He sighed and put it into his jacket pocket. England turned around and walked back out to Canada. Preparing a whole another speech for America later.

There really wasn't anything wrong with the syringe. Except for the fact it was empty. And England had been sure it was full before.

**Authors note: OK, so I didn't get the England AMerica talk in this Chapter. Shoot me. I do need to transfer this story onto paper so I dont need to bring my computer around with me everywere. It may be a little while before I can get another chapter out for you guys.**

**I want to tell you all that I'm going to want to write more than one story at a time though. (I've done it before I'm very good at multi-tasking.) So I sorta need ideas. Send me a message saying what you want me to write about. I need ideas!**

**I'll see you guys in the next chapter! or maybe another story if I get any ideas either from you lot or my own briliant mind.**

_**Ciao!**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Authors note: I really don't have anything to say up here. Be prepared though, after this chapter I sorta just started to have fun talking to you… be prepared.**

Ch. 4

Not long after England left America's room, countries started arriving for the meeting. England didn't really feel like mingling with the others, so he simply sat in the meeting room, waiting for the meeting to start as he thought.

_'So'_ He thought, _'That happened.'_

England hadn't really allowed himself to think about the day's events at all. He wanted to get everything set up before he burdened himself with these thoughts.

From England's point of view, America was addicted to this drug. It actually explained a lot about him. Why he was so strong for one thing. It also explained all his energy, and his hunger issues.

England put his head in his hands, struggling to push back the horrible question he wanted to ask America. He couldn't do that.

England took a deep breath. He _had_ to be the responsible one.

**(A few hours later, near the end of the meeting.)**

England muttered to himself. This meeting had been going on for way too long, still with no decision. Just a lot of fighting. There was less than usual though. Italy was making sure Germany didn't go over the edge like he normally did. Spain was doing a pretty good job at keeping Romano under control too. Japan was trying to get people to calm down and Greece was just sitting quietly, waiting for people to quiet down while petting some cat he found. France was acting like a total git like usual, continually trying to get England into a yelling match. Trying and failing of course, but you have to give him credit for persistence. Russia was doing his 'become one with mother Russia' thing, while China was just trying to get him to sit down and shut-up.

As far as England could tell, it looked like the only two people not getting involved at all were himself and America.

England studied the silent American. He looked to be awfully on edge. That wasn't surprising considering the drug was probably still in his system, and the fact that America still needed to confess his reasons as to why he started all this in the first place. Now that he had clamed down a little, England suspected he had been pressured into it. America just didn't seem like the kind of guy that would do drugs voluntarily.

"OK, we obviously are not going to reach a decision today. Everyone is getting tired and are not in their right mind. Let's meet again tomorrow and continue then. Germany sighed, calling the meeting to an end.

England remained seated to avoid getting caught by the wave of countries heading for the door. It didn't seem like many people would be spending the night at the White House that night. Normally he wouldn't either, but England needed to talk to America.

"England?" Canada walked up to the older country. "Normally you're the first one out the door. Aren't you staying in a hotel tonight?"

England shook his head. "Not this time. I'm going to stay here tonight. What about you Canada? I've never known you to stay at the meeting place before."

Canada chuckled a bit, "I don't like the hotels here. At least not in this area."

England cracked a smile before he noticed America wasn't in the room anymore.

He stood up while offering Canada a quick good-night, then went in search of America. He was going to get an explanation out of him, one way or another.

**(Authors note: I was going to end the chapter here but it's rather short. I'm going to add on a little. This is a little exerpt of the next chapter.)**

It took England a full 15 minutes to find America in one of the vacant bedrooms. The American looked up as England entered to room and gave him a feeble smile.

"I was really hoping you would just give up and go to bed." America joked weakly, it failed to invoke a reaction out of the Brit standing in front of him.

England closed and locked the door. He didn't lock it so much as for the people _outside_. He was more concerned about the American on the _inside_ trying to get away.

England turned to America and folded his arms.

"Well America? This is your chance to explain yourself. Why the bloody hell were-are-you doing this to yourself?

America stared at the floorboards. He took a deep breath before beginning his explanation.

**Authors note: The explanation, is not in this chapter ladies and gentlemen. I know that sorta makes me a liar. (Did I say I would do it in this chapter?) But if I added on America's reasoning in this chapter it would have been too long. Never fear! I will get you a chapter in a reasonable short amount of time. As long a I don't get writers block. I have so much free time at school you wouldn't believe me. The next chapter is going to be sad though, you can count on that! Now we just need to worry about it getting published…**

**Again I want to mention the need for new material. As much as I love this story, its not going to last forever. And I would love to change the number of stories on my account from the #1. NEW MATERIAL IS APRECIATED!**

**The income of chapters may dwindle a little bit however. Its three more weeks until summer break and guys I am worn out… But I will do my best!**

**Ciao!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Authors note: Oh man that sorta took a little while. I don't really have an excuse for all of you, I just haven't been able to get on the computer for a while. ON WITH THE STORY!**

Ch. 5

"This was few weeks after the Revolutionary War. My boss came up to me and said we needed to get stronger. That last day of the Revolution, it could have been over for independence."

England nodded. He could still remember that day very clearly. He had a chance to end the fighting and bring America back under the King's rule. But he just hadn't been able to pull the trigger.

America closed his eyes before he continued, "We only won because of that decision. _Your_ decision. We got lucky, and my boss just didn't want to take a chance like that again.

"So he put me through hell trying to strengthen our country. Then the next president did the same thing, then the next. This went on for almost a hundred years before my boss decided the normal stuff wouldn't work with me. So he came up with the in-genius idea of drugging me to pull more strength. Of course I refused at first. There was even a war about the whole thing. I'm sure you've heard about the American Civil War right?"

England blinked, confused. "Wait, I thought that your Civil War was about the Southern part of your country trying to break away from the Union."

America chuckled darkly, "It was. To everyone else at least. We didn't reveal too many details to the rest of the world I suppose. The thing is, I was on one side, and my boss was on the other. Judging by what you saw today, I think you can tell who won."

England stared at America. "You were fighting for the Confederates? I always assumed you were a part of-"

"The Union, I know." America interrupted, "And I would have too, under different circumstances. But I was fighting like hell so I didn't have to use that stuff. But we lost, and I sort of had to do what he wanted me to. Later, of course he was assassinated. But it was a little too late by late. I was already addicted." America sighed and put his head in his hands. "By-by the time a new president was elected, I had already gotten connections. Ways to get the drug that I 'needed'." America shook his head, "I was disgusted with myself, the fact I couldn't control this." He took a trembling breath before continuing. "My current president-no all my bosses after that have no idea that as to my condition. That's why you can't tell _anyone_." America raised his head and looked pleadingly at England. "Even countries can be sent to asylums. I'm not crazy. I've been trying to get off this thing for a long time dude, and I've gotten really close before."

England stood silently for a moment, letting this new information sink in. "Maybe you should get some kind of help." He said slowly, not wanting to offend the American, "This seems too big for any one person to deal with alone."

America stared at him, panic clear on his face. "No way dude! The rest of the world already knows my country is full of drugs! If the representative of that country started using drugs too and people knew about it… There would be no respect at all left for my country!" He looked at England as he stood up, gaining the high ground on him.

England looked up at America, holding his ground for another minute before breaking his gaze away from America's.

"Alright. I won't say anything." He sighed, defeated. America let out a sigh of relief and smiled down at England.

"Thanks so much dude. You have no idea how big of a favor this is to me."

England murmured, trying to hold in the question he needed to ask. He was _required_ to ask. He fought it, but in the end it came out anyway.

"America? Can I ask you something?" England blurted, grimacing at his own words. Cursing himself silently, he watched as America looked at him curiously.

"Sure. Go ahead and ask away man."

England couldn't quite believe the words were coming out of his mouth. "H-How, I mean if one so chose to, could you get that stuff?"

**Authors note: Oh England, Why? And I know I totally dissed all Americans in this chapter. I'm American I have every right to diss myself! I apologize to all other offended Americans out there. My gosh I just don't have time to get the computer and type all of the stuff I've written! Seriously, I have up to chapter 12 written. I just need to find the time to type it all up. I'm sorry for the delays. I will have another chapter up before next Monday.**

_**Ciao!**_


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Oh my gosh this took a while to get out. In fact, I'm not even going to keep you. Here's the story.**

Ch. 6

America looked confused. He forced out a nervous laugh. "Dude, I think I heard you wrong. I thought you asked me where-"

"Where you got that stuff." England finished for America, still looking at the floor.

America frowned, "You cannot be saying what I think your saying."

England glanced up momentarily at America before looking away again.

America shook his head violently and backed away with raised hands. "No. No way man! You seriously can't be thinking about doing this!"

England glared at America. He let his instincts take over. "Why not? You do it! And don't you dare say it's dangerous or that ill get addicted to it. I'm not afraid of that!" He yelled at America, with a slight tremor in his voice.

America was silent for a moment. "Who are you, and what the hell have you done with England?"

England frowned, "What?"

America walked forward, forcing England up against the wall. "The England I know would hate any _idea_ of drugs. He would even hate the idea of _alcohol_! Why do you suddenly want to know about this, let alone get involved? It just doesn't make sense." America's eyes widened in sudden understanding. "Unless, you were planning on a war."

England scowled, but averted his eyes and didn't say anything.

America groaned. "Wonderful. Who ware you planning on invading first? France? Or are you going to aim higher and attack Germany?" America growled and punched the wall, ignoring the pain shooting up his arm. "Damn it England! You're not this stupid! You should know how badly this would end!"

"It's not my idea!" England shouted, "I have to go along with it! You should know that better than anyone! You're not one to talk anyway! You also just let people tell you what to do! You don't tell me it can't be done you hypocrite!" America froze. As soon as he saw the hurt in the American's face, England regretted his words.

"A-America I. I don't know what-"

"So easily?" America whispered, shocked. "Even after what I told you, you just think I gave up?"

England was silent. He couldn't even look at America, let alone apologize for his offence.

America turned away from England. "I see. Thank you England" He walked over to the nightstand by the bed and opened the drawer. He pulled out a paper and pen, and scribbled something on it. He looked at England. "This is where you can find the guy." He walked toward the door, leaving the paper of the table.

Before he could leave, England grabbed his arm. "America. Y-you know that I didn't mean-"

"No." America pulled his arm out of England's grasp and scowled at him. "No, I think you meant exactly what you said England. You always do." He smirked at the distressed Briton. "You have a great invasion." England didn't make another move to stop him as he walked out the door.

England leaned back against the wall again. He couldn't think. He couldn't move. What had provoked him to say that to America? He had hurt him, far more than he had ever intended.

England suddenly felt something wet trailing its way down his face. He reached up and wiped it away with the back of his hand. He found himself desperately trying to erase all signs of tears. Eventually he gave up. England sank to the floor, silently crying into his hands.

America stormed down the empty hallway. He was pissed. How could England just say he didn't try at all? That he just gave up? He fought in a fucking war to try to stop this god damn it!

America slammed the door to his room right before the tears began to fall. He scolded himself for acting so childish. It wasn't him who should be sorry. But he was. He had given up with England. He had given him the address. America couldn't believe himself. He had just been so _angry_. He hadn't been thinking straight.

America stumbled over to his bed the best he could with the tears blurring his vision, collapsing onto it. He hugged his pillow he sobbed, until he fell asleep.

**Author's Note: England, England, England... You bad bad boy. Anyway, yes this took a while to get out. I have had a butt-ton of things to do. Seriously. Hopefully, I'll be able to get something out tomorrow.**

**Comments are love!**

_**Ciao!**_


	7. Chapter 7

**(Authors Note: I really need to figure out how to get these things typed faster...)**

Ch. 7

America sighed and leaned back in his seat. The meeting hadn't even started yet, and people were already close to blows.

America hadn't seen England at all that morning. He was getting a little worried. He had nearly launched a manhunt for him before realizing he was probably over-reacting. Still, all he could think about was that slip of paper he had given England.

America shook his head, angry with himself. What was wrong with him? It wasn't like he really cared about what he did. He hadn't cared about that for centuries, why should he start now? Perhaps it was because he-NO! What was he thinking? Of course that wasn't it!

The American looked up at the mayhem before him. Besides, he didn't even _need_ to worry about England. England was smart enough to take care of himself. England was smart enough not to follow him down. Right? _Right?_

England stood in front of the stout building, staring at the paper America had given him. He looked up again at the Address. 986 Rudolph street. England folded the paper and shoved it into his pocket.

He walked up and knocked on the door. As he waited England began to feel a little nervous. He briefly considered abandoning this whole plan before the door was opened. A single bloodshot eye stared at the Englishman through the crack.

"Yeah? What do you want?"

England winced slightly at the husky voice. "My name is Arthur." England muttered, using his human name. There was no way in hell he was giving this man his last name though, "I was told you sell some, special items." He was well aware he was acting like an idiot, but what do you say in a situation like this?

The man poked his head farther out the door. He raised an eyebrow. "What kind of 'special items' we talking about?"

England looked at the man, not quite meeting his eye. "Items the police would get pretty mad about."

The man hesitated. England could practically see him thinking about how amateurish he was acting. Wait. Wasn't that a good thing?

"You have money?" The man's voice jerked England out of his train of thoughts. He blinked.

_'Was that a statement or a question?'_ he wondered momentarily. "Do you take British money?"

Another hesitation. "Let me see it."

England pulled out some of the money and showed it to the guy. He took one of the bills and studied it. He then nodded and motioned for England to come in.

England glanced around nervously before entering. The last thing he wanted was for someone he knew seeing him walk in here. Thankfully, the meeting was still in session, and the White House was pretty far away from here.

The man led him a little ways into the building before turning and looking at England.

"Alright, what do you want?"

England was a little taken aback by the question. What did he want? He shifted uncomfortably. "You deal to a guy named Alfred right?" He used America's human name. He didn't think America would be as stupid as to tell this shady character the truth about the countries. He hadn't planed on bringing America into this, but he didn't exactly ask him what he was using before he stormed out the night before. Besides, he didn't want to name anything in particular. In some way, he felt like it wasn't admitting he was going to do it. Not naming anything was probably a bad move, but it was one of the only things keeping him there.

The man looked at him, clearly suspicious. "Why do you want to know?

England attempted to shrug nonchalantly. On the inside he was begging to just run out that door and never look back. But he had a reason for being there. "He's the one who told me about you. I want the same stuff he's getting."

The man looked at him suspiciously for another minute. "He's getting a special order. That's going to cost more."

"I can do that." England struggled to keep a straight face when all he waned to do was bolt.

The man nodded. "I'll be right back." He turned and walked back into the back of the building. England sighed and leaned against a nearby wall. He was prepared to wait.

Close to fifteen minutes later the man came back and thrust a box out at England.

"Here, take it and give me my money."

England took the box and weighed it in his hands. "How much is in here?"

The dealer rolled his eyes. "So this really is your first time. I suspected as much." England could feel his face growing warm. Was it that obvious? "Listen, here's the deal. When we sell, we give enough for about ten hits. Your English right? A Brit?"

England frowned at the nickname, but nodded.

"So you'll be going back across in a little while."

Another nod.

"Nice. Where in England do you live?"

England hesitated. He hadn't expected a question like this one. "Um, London. I live in London."

The dealer nodded. "I have friends in London that can keep you supplied." The man took out a slip of paper, and scribbled something on it with a pen he pulled of his shirt pocket. "Here." He handed it to England. It had another address on it. Wonderful. "Just find them. I can tell them you'll be coming. They can get you the stuff and they'll send me the money."

England nodded and gave the guy what money he owed him before hurrying out the door, not wanting to spend another minute in that room. England climbed into the car he had 'borrowed' from one of the other countries and started the drive back to the White House, the whole time hoping that he wouldn't run into anyone.

**(Authors Note: And Iggy really goes through with it! How many of you thought he was going to chicken out? But if he did there would be no storyline soooooooooo.**

**I've gotten a few comments saying I'm not putting any USUK in here. I am really sorry about that! I've been so focused on the rest of the story I really sorta forgot… I will put little bits in there but the main story was never really meant to be a love story.**

**I should get another Ch out today, but I'm going to tell you its going to be rather short. So till then!**  
**_Ciao!)_**


	8. Chapter 8

**(Authors Note: Two in one day!? Unheard of! Though this one is rather short…)**

Ch. 8

England silently closed the door behind him and locked it. All he needed was to get his things and he could leave. As he walked down the hell there was a sudden crash from the meeting room. Letting curiosity get the best of him, England risked a peak inside. Almost everyone was standing, yelling at each-other. Even Japan looked like he was getting mad.

_'Yes. I do believe it is time to leave.'_ England thought to himself, as he hurried away.

England shut the door behind him as he entered the room. He gathered his things and threw them into his bad, not even bothering to fold anything. He just wanted to get out before things got really violent between countries. England buried the box underneath some clothed and zipped up the bag. He picked it up and opened the door, freezing when he saw America standing there.

The American stood with his arms crossed in front of his chest, glaring down at the shorter Brit. "Where were you?" He asked.

England searched frantically for an escape as he responded. "Why would you care? You never have before."

America laughed bitterly, "Yeah, but before you didn't have the address of a drug dealer." His eyes narrowed at the bag hanging off England's shoulder. "I can't believe it."

England shifted, uncomfortable with where this was going. "I- What do you mean?"

"England, I'm not stupid." America spat. "You look like you feel like you're backed into a corner. Nervous and guilty. It's a dead give away."

Deciding acting defensive wasn't going to get him anywhere, England switched to the offence. "It's really none of your bloody business now is it?" he snapped. "I'm not exactly obligated to tell you about every action I take in my life!"

America laughed again, "Come on _Iggy_. Like I want to know everything!"

"Don't call me that!" England shouted. "And you know what I meant!"

"Yeah, probably." America snorted, still laughing.

England scowled. How the hell could he go from being so mad to this laughing mess? He would never understand Americans. "There's been an emergency back in London. I need to leave." He pushed past America, whose laughter evaporated immediately. England started walking down the hall.

"I think we would have heard about something like that on the news!" America called after him.

"Not that kind of emergency!" England shouted over his shoulder.

America sighed as he watched the Brit walk away. "I really hope you know what you're getting into England." He muttered. _

England stormed out of the White House and got to the street, just before the meeting ended. Not wanting to be caught and questioned by one of the other countries that was leaving, England didn't bother to wait for a taxi and just started walking. Even when he had gotten two blocks away, he could still hear them bickering among themselves. He turned at the next corner to hail a taxi-which proved to be just a difficult as the last time- and told the driver to take him to the airport.

Of course, the driver decided to drive past the White House, where most of the countries still stood. England looked at the fighting mass of bodies. He made eye contact with one of them for just a moment before driving away. He blinked. Was that Italy? Why was he looking at the road? England grimaced. He was sure Italy had recognized him too.

He let that drift to the back of his mind as he thought about what he would need to do once he got back to London. He briefly considered throwing the bag out of the window before banishing that thought out of his mind. Not only would that most likely cause an accident, but also his boss wouldn't be very happy. England didn't want to make him mad. Not after last time.

The Prime Minister of Great Britain was _not_ a man you wanted to get on bad terms with.

**(Authors Note: And so we hint at England's motivations. This one was fun to write, because I had a total Derp moment and couldn't remember who ruled over Great Britain. I feel like a total idiot but I wanted to say it was a Pope… [I was thinking Italy!] Well, I was totally told off by one of my friends and I fixed it.**

**Not much more to say here… I will say though it is not fun for England from here on out. [I actually sort of feel bad for doing this to him… oh well. Can't stop now.]**

**Till the next chapter!**

**_Ciao!_****)**


	9. Chapter 9

**(Authors Note: THREE CHAPTERS! This it progressing very well. Plenty of typing.)**

Ch.9

"W-What?"

"You heard me. I want you to use it now. Why wait?"

England stared at his boss. "Preparation?"

The Prime Minister waved his had dismissively. "You can't prepare for something like this. Just lock yourself in a room and use it. Its not like you can kill yourself with this.

England had just landed in London 30 minutes ago. As soon as he got off the plane, the Prime Minister had gotten him into a car. As soon as he got into the vehicle it set off to an unknown destination, while the Prime Minister began to give his next orders to England.

Orders England had been dreading for weeks.

"What room?" England was beginning to panic. He didn't want to do this. Not yet! "I cant just go to any random room. And what about security surveillance?"

The Prime Minister nodded, "We already have a room for you. When we get to the building, go to the third floor and five rooms to the left. There are no cameras, and there is a lock on the door. There will be nobody in the building. Not for the next few days anyway."

England couldn't do anything but stare. His boss had obviously put some thought into this.

The Prime Minister looked out the window as the car rolled to a stop. "Here we are. Get going."

"W-Wait!" England wasn't just stalling for time; a sudden thought had popped into his head. "I'm just doing this for the upcoming-"

"Arthur!" The Prime Minister didn't like to call England by his country's name. Said it took power away from himself. "You realize, we are on a schedule! Get going!" he reached over and opened England's door. He practically pushed England out of the car.

"But sir! What if this stuff- What if I can't-" England was cut off when the door was slammed as the car drove away, leaving a still-shocked England clutching a bag full of drugs.

He turned and looked at the building. There wasn't anything too remarkable about it. Just an everyday building in London. Yet England could feel something sinister emitting from it.

England frowned and turned. He could feel a bright aura coming his way.

"England! Your back!" England smiled as he caught sight of a small, green bunny coming his way.

"Flying Mint Bunny!" England exclaimed, "I'm so glad to see you!"

The bunny fluttered over on his fluffy green wings. "Iggy! What are you doing here?" England's smile didn't waver. He really didn't mind it when his magical friends called him Iggy. He just didn't like it when the countries picked up the habit. They used it in a more mocking tone then his friends did. What made his smile slip was Flying Mint Bunny's next comment "I saw you get out of a car really fast!"

England grimaced as he remembered what he needed to do here. "Yeah. Really fast. He mumbled and walked toward the front door.

Flying Mint Bunny followed close behind. "What are you doing here England."

The country stopped. He really didn't want the innocent little bunny to see what he was going to do in there. He turned, forcing a fake smile up on his face. He looked the cute little animal in the eye. "I have to do something very important. I will tell you what it is later. Can you go tell everyone not to come looking for me? I'll talk to all of you at the same time."

Flying Mint Bunny paused, letting this process in his brain. Being the adorable little thing he was, he smiled as he nodded. "OK England! I'll see you later!" He flew away, drawing the attention of one or two other 'seers'.

England watched his friend fly away for a minute. Then he turned back to the building. He took a deep breath before walking inside.

**(Authors Note: Ok, just in case there is any confusion about the term 'seer', its not official, its just people who can see magical creatures. Just so you know.**

**OK I know I may get a little hate for cutting it off there. But Just fo you know, I will get a chapter out either today or tomorrow. I don't want to put the drug use in the same chapter as this innocent chapter. [OK, I just don't want to mix FMB and drugs.]**

**A lot of typing is happening today. Probably not good for my computer…**

**Till the next chapter!**

**_Ciao!)_**


	10. Chapter 10

**(Author's Note: If you don't like drug use or are uncomfortable with it, please just wait until the next update comes out. Thanks!)**

Ch. 10

As England walked up the stairs to the third floor, his breathing became more, and more ragged. By the time he was walking down the hall, England suspected he was going to have a breakdown right there in the hall.

England stopped in front of the fifth door to the left. In front of the room were he was supposedly going to ruin the rest of his life. Reasoning with the fact he was more frightened of his boss then of the drug, England pushed open the door and walked inside. Not looking at anything in the room yet, he closed the door and locked it. England turned and leaned against the door as he took in the room.

It was simply decorated, with only a single bed and nightstand pushed into a corner of the room. England looked at the rubber strap sitting curled up next to the syringe on the nightstand, and visibly winced. He sat on the bed and hesitated before picking up the syringe. He only touched it with his index finger and thumb, not wanting to touch it anymore than was necessary. England shook his head and set it back down gently. He un-zipped his bag and pulled out the box he bought in Washington. England ripped off the tape and looked inside.

The drug was already in tubes, waiting to be loaded into the syringe. England didn't process this. Not fully. His body went onto automatic as his brain clicked into overdrive.

What the hell was he doing? Didn't he always say this stuff was a mistake? That No-one should use it? Then why was he sitting here, about to jab himself with the same stuff he loathed so much?

Why should he be so scared anyway? The Prime Minister was just another man wasn't he? Why should he be taking these kind of orders from him? He was the whole bloody country and who was he? Some bloke that people elected to run the country. To order him around! He just needed to report him. To report him as insane, unfit to be in the office! So why didn't he? Of course, he was unable to tell anyone. Even being who he was, having the rank he did, he had no power. Not anymore. Not like anyone else. All the other countries had some level of control in their own land. Not him. Not anymore. This man had taken everything from him. Everything he had to lose anyway. How could he fight him? He had everyone under his thumb. He would never be able to compete with someone like that.

And it wasn't like America could do. Just disappear for a few years until the term was over. England couldn't do that. He was stuck with the man until he was forced out of office. He couldn't run for decades. He couldn't hide. So what else could he do but comply?

England pulled himself out of the web of his doubts. As he thought his body had worked on automatic, continuing to prep the drug he was going to shoot into his body, doing god-knows-what. He knew what it did to humans, and the long-term effects for America. But what happened as you did it?

England shook off that thought. What was going to happen was unavoidable. He couldn't fight it. The thought made him sad. If he couldn't speak up for himself anymore, what the hell had he become?

England held the rubber strap and wound it around his arm. Remembering the technique America had used, England secured one end and held the other end tightly with his teeth. The rubber tasted filthy. He wondered if that was a sign.

Actually hoping someone would start knocking on the locked door, England picked up the syringe and held it gingerly in his hand, eyeing it in distaste.

England took a deep breath to steady his hand, and pressed the needle to the crook of his arm. He winced as the needle pierced the skin. He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed down on the plunger.

England almost released the strap in his teeth with a gasp as he could feel the chilled liquid rush into his blood-stream. England grit his teeth tighter instead, and tried to relax his arm to allow the foreign substance easier access to his body. He shivered violently as he could feel the cold liquid snake its way underneath his skin.

The strap loosened as England's teeth chattered together. England yanked the needle out of his arm, and dropped it on the floor as the force caused blood to gush out.

England dropped the strap in his mouth and pressed his hand against his arm, trying to stop the bleeding. He cursed himself for being such an idiot. He could have found something to wrap his arm for after the injection.

Keeping his hand pressed against his arm, England stood up to find some kind of cloth for the bleeding. He had barely taken a single step before he fell back onto the bed. England groaned as his muscles began to twitch uncontrollably.

That stuff, it was obviously laced with something. Some other drug. Some other drug, that was probably very addictive.

England could see dark spots dancing across his eyes. Was he going to pass out? Why? He took just as much as he was told to! But the dealer had thought he was talking to a human. Could he have a different reaction to this drug because he was a country? Did he take too much? Why the hell didn't he just ask America? Granted, America probably wouldn't have told him, but he still could have tried!

_'Damn it.'_ England thought, right before he blacked out.

**(Authors Note: Oh man, that pained me. I felt so bad writing Iggy like this! I feel like I'm torturing him in some strange way… I really have no idea if that's what you do when you take drugs though. [no I have not chosen a specific drug, nor do I have any plans to.] I sorta just went with my gut instinct.**

**And I'm sorry if I got the information about the Prime Minister wrong. I looked it up on Wiki. -_-**U** If I got it wrong please tell me! I hate it when I got information about the real world wrong in my stories!**

**Till the next chapter! [where things will really begin to pick up.]**

**_Ciao!)_**


	11. Chapter 11

**(Authors Note: Five chapters! This is unheard of! I'm so proud of myself! TAKE THAT SLEEP! Anyway, this chapter is sorta depressing, and a little scary for our dear friend Iggy…)**

Ch.11

The first thing England was aware of was his pounding headache. He groaned inwardly, still unable to make any noise. Why should that, of all things, be the first thing he can think about? England didn't open his eyes at first. He just lay there, trying to recover enough strength to sit up.

England didn't know how long he lay there, he couldn't concentrate enough to tell. What was he doing before he passed out? Did he really just-

"No" He whispered, forcing the word out past his lips. He didn't need to think about that right now. When he felt stronger. When he was able to move. That's when he would analyze all this.

When he was sure he wouldn't black out again once he sat up, England struggled up so he was leaning on his elbows. He gasped as there was a sharp pain emitting from his ribs.

England cracked open his eyes, squinting at the bright light. He was still in the room, but he was on the floor.

_'I must have fallen when I lost consciousness.'_ He thought as he sat up completely, leaning on the bed.

What the hell was that pain? England unbuttoned his shirt, letting it slip off his shoulders as he got a nice view of a large, purple bruise blossoming on his pale skin. He prodded it gently and grimaced. He must have hit something on his journey off the bed. England scowled as he shrugged his shirt back on, buttoning it back up.

He pushed himself up to his feet. Oh god his head hurt. Doing his best to ignore his pounding headache and throbbing ribs, England walked on shaky legs over to his bag. He closed the box that held the rest of the drugs and set it back into the bag, hiding it with some of the spare clothes already inside.

England zipped up the back and slowly picked it up. He took one more look at the room before walking out the door, becoming stronger with every step.

**(3 months later, because I really don't want to write more of that…)**

"I say this is progressing very nicely Arthur. Frankly, I think we can move on with the plan." The Prime Minister was _smiling_. He _never_ smiled. It was a little frightening, if not a bit disconcerting.

England didn't argue with what he said. He had learned a long time ago not to argue with that man. And now, he just didn't have the strength.

"Who are we attacking first?" He asked, his voice hollow.

The Prime Minister smiled at England's easy compliance. "France is the first one on the list. I have a feeling you may enjoy this one. Go and prepare. I want to move out no later then next week."

England nodded and turned to walk out the door. He was so tired. He didn't have time to meet his body's demands anymore. The Prime Minister kept him so busy now. England knew he wasn't doing well, neither mentally _or_ physically. He couldn't concentrate on anything anymore. Not for a long time, he would simply blank out. Once, someone had to literally shake him around to get him to snap out of it. And his physical state was deteriorating quickly as well. He was getting thin. His cheeks were sunken in, and his bones were much more prominent. And people noticed, he knew they did. They just didn't say anything. It was getting to the point that England he was able to count each one of his ribs fairly easily.

How did America do this? He made it look so simple, so normal for him, while it was slowly killing England. But of course, he didn't always have someone bearing down on him.

Even if his boss decided he could stop, decided to call this whole thing off, England couldn't stop. From the first hit, England knew it was laced. What it was laced with, that was the mystery. But he didn't really care anymore. Even if he had the strength to defy his boss, say he was going to stop, England doubted he really could. He didn't have the will anyway. He would do what he was told.

That's all he was now anyway. An obedient servant, unable to stop the events that were unfolding in front of him.

He had no power. He was weak. He was _dying_. And he couldn't do anything about it. All he could do, was gather the soldiers.

**(Authors Note: Oh man, that one almost made me as depressed as the last one. Why do I do these things to my characters? Oh yes, because I'm evil. **

**So I have for-shadowed what will happen in the next chapter. I've sorta ignored America for a while now that I think about it… Well, I'll get to him. Right now, my story's just a little depressing. Hopefully, I will think of a proper ending for all this! [the ending is no-were in sight for me! Where do I go!?] At least I'm catching up to what I've written… just 7 chapters to go… then I'll have to think about what ****_else_**** I have to do to poor Iggy!**

**Anyway~ I'm more than I little tired right now. I think if I write more tonight then I'll just start writing about a giant act of genocide from our dear friend The Prime Minister. And that would seriously mess up the story I've written! X_X**

**Till the next chapter!**

**_Ciao!_****)**


	12. Chapter 12

**(Authors Note: Man, I am getting a lot of chapters out. I've had access to a computer a lot more recently. I'm not going to keep you. ON WITH THE STORY!)**

Ch. 12

"What? The Giants lost? To who?"

"Alfred, we sorta have more important things to worry about, _other_ than baseball."

"Like what? This is baseball! I can't just ignore this!"

"You can when one of our allies have been invaded."

America blinked, confused. Then he was all business. "Who? And who invaded them?" As soon as he asked, America had a sudden feeling He knew exactly who had invaded.

"France was invaded two days ago by England. And even in that short amount of time, England has nearly made it to their capitol in Paris."

America didn't move for a minute. "England? Has- em. How do I say this?" America was silent for a minute as he thought. "Has the representative for England been spotted on the battlefield?"

The informer frowned. "Kirkland? Why would- oh, yes." The informant nodded. "It has been reported he was there. On the front lines in fact.

America took this in silently. Before he could say anything, the informant spoke again.

"We have some footage, if you want to see it."

America nodded silently. He watched as the video started. It was taken by a citizen no doubt, taken from a high window. He could see the British army approaching, and right at the front was England.

America had to hold back a gasp when he saw the sickly Brit. He looked horrible. America couldn't believe he had just seen this man three months ago. _'How much of that drug had he been taking?'_ America thought in horror.

England wasn't acting very sick though. In fact, he was acting a bit like Germany. He was barking orders and looked to be moving around just fine, though America just suspected it was the drug talking. He probably just recently had taken a dose.

"We just wanted to tell you about this, no action is going to be taken yet."

America jumped up to his feet, "What're you talking about man? We have to help France! He's our ally!"

"And so is England." America spun around to look at his president. He looked regrettably at America. "We can't afford to break our Alliance with either of them at the moment."

America wanted to argue, but he knew that his boss was right. He sat down with a sigh.

His President looked past America, a thoughtful expression in his eyes. "Right now, all we can do is wait."

England gasped and dropped his gun, pressing his hands to his stomach. He looked down slowly and stared at his hands. They were bright red. Red with his blood.

England fell awkwardly to his knees, struggling to stay conscious. He stared at the scene in front of him. People were running, screaming, and falling. Falling, and dying.

England tried to move his head, with no response. His body wouldn't move. He could move his eyes though. He could still look around. England's eyes flickered over to look at the man walking towards him.

It was America. America strode toward him, holding a gun. He couldn't tell what kind. Now that he thought about it, his vision was becoming blurred.

America stopped in front of England and lifted the gun up to point at his head. England lifted his eyes to stare into America's, searching for any kind of emotion. But all he saw was cold, unfeeling hatred.

England closed his eyes as America flipped the safety switch.

_'I am so sorry America.'_ He thought, right before the bang.

**(Authors Note: Cliffhangers! You gotta hate 'em! Yeah, I sorta left you hanging there. I'm evil, I know. I actually may hold off a little while before I update. Leave you all in suspense.**

**All joking aside, I really don't know when my next chance to update will be. I will try to update fairly soon. Hopefully, at most in a week. We'll see I guess.**

**I know this chapter isn't as long as any of the others, but you guys can make do with all the other updates I've made right? Right.**

**Till the next chapter!**

**_Ciao!_****)**


	13. Chapter 13

**(Authors Note: Ok, so I didn't leave you all as long as I thought I would. But then again, this isn't much of a chapter. Just enough to give you some critical information.)**

Ch. 13

'I'm so sorry America' _He thought, right before the bang._

England shot up in bed with a cry. He sat on his bed, clutching his chest as he gasped for air.

Still gasping for breath, England looked around the room he was in. No. Not the room, the tent. He remembered, they were in the middle of an invasion. The invasion on France.

England closed his eyes to try and steady his breathing. His dreams had been getting worse lately. This one had been the most realistic. Though, he really should have expected that. His guilt was hitting him, and it was hitting him hard.

But he was scared. It was so realistic, he could see it happening. He was so frightened it would actually happen.

Right as he was calming down, England heard an annoyingly familiar voice. "E-England? A-Are you ok?"

England scowled, opening his eyes. Bright blue eyes meeting dull emerald ones. It was Sealand. He was the first 'country' they had taken. Huh, more like an old mission.

"What do you want?" England snarled.

Sealand's eyes reflected hurt at England's tone. "I-I heard you cry out and, I-I just wanted to make sure you were-"

"I'm fine!" England snapped, "And I would be even better if you would just-" England was cut off by a fit of coughing.

Sealand rushed forward and placed a hand on the Brit's shoulder as he struggled through the fit. It had long been decided that no-one was allowed to help him at times like this. England's boss wanted him to get through these kinds of things by himself. He thought it would strengthen England in some way. But in Sealand's opinion, it was only making him bitter.

England's coughing subsided and he simply sat there, gasping for air. Sealand didn't move, keeping his hand on the older man's shoulder.

"A-are you ok?" Saeland forced himself to speak, his voice trembling.

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, England pushed Sealand away and leapt to his feet.

"I'm fine you- Get out of here!" he shrieked.

Sealand jerked back and scrambled to get out of the tent.

England watched him go. As soon as the flap fell into place he felt guilty. What was wrong with him? He had never been _that_ harsh on anyone. Even France had never been able to get him this mad. England felt like he wanted to strangle somebody.

England felt something wet on his rolling down his face, but he made no move to wipe it away. He sank to his knees and hid his face in his hands.

_'What the hell is happening to me?'_

Sealand ran away from the tent. He didn't really like England, he never had. But that didn't mean he wanted him to _die_. And he looked horrible. Sealand had to remind himself that this was the guy who was this close to conquering France.

Speaking of which, why was no-one coming to help France? He had to admit, France wasn't necessarily the most popular of countries, but he still had allies right? So why was his help not coming? Where was everyone?

**(Authors Note: Alright! So there it is! England is not dead and he's still laying siege on France! [Seige? Does anyone even use that term anymore?]**

**I really sort of felt bad, [My friends were giving me crap about it] so I updated a little earlier that I was planning on.**

_**Sketch08**_

_**If he kills him (I'm American by the way) I'm moving to Canada and then I'll go back down to America just to go all kinds of Canadian/American on his ass. Using his own skills. I love this story and how dare you be so evil! Update soon!**_

**I just want to share this comment because it was funny and seriously made my day! I'm really glad my story is getting so much love!**

**I am considering starting another story right about now. Its not a done deal, but I am considering it. I would be writing both this one and the other one so you will still be able to read about my fail love story. [I have been working on adding more USUK so be calm my readers. There will be more near the end though. But the end is no-where in sight!]**

**Alright, this note is getting a little long… so I will cut it off here. I apologize for the short chapter, but I just wanted to reassure you that England's alive. And that bad things are happening with him… Bad, bad things…**

**Till the next chapter!**

**_Ciao!_****)**


	14. Chapter 14

**(Authors Note: Ok, so I'm going to warn you here, I'm getting really bad writers block up in the 17****th**** chapter, so until I can overcome that there will be a bit of a shortage until I can finish that one. I am seriously considering starting up another story though. Give me some opinion, do you want something else? Ill let you all mull that over as the story continues!)**

Ch. 14

"Alright, will everyone please just settle down!" Germany's voice blasted through the room, effectively shutting up the arguing countries. "Thank you. America, you called us here. What exactly do you want us all together for?

America stood up and faced the other members of the G8, which included Germany, Italy, Japan, China, Russia, himself, France, and England. Except, a certain Englishman seemed to be absent from the meeting.

"Right, we all know England's gone a little, um." America paused, trying to think of a good word. The others jumped forward with their own opinions.

"Crazy."

"Loopy."

"Off the deep end."

America ignored all the other countries. "He's just gone a little off. And frankly, he's certainly going a little far with his invasion."

"A little far?" France challenged, "He's completely taken my country! And he's moving on to the rest of the world! Do you realize how many countries he has already taken?"

America did know. And he was just as shocked as the rest of the world. England had already taken Spain, France, and Denmark, and he has invaded Germany and Italy. Frankly, America wouldn't be surprised if England even found a way to invade Switzerland. Both Spain and France were taking refuge with America and Denmark had gone to the rest of the Nordics.

"Listen America, get to the point or I'm leaving. I'm being invaded you know!" Germany was losing patience!"

"Ve~" Italy nodded, "I can't just raise the white flag this time. We all have to fight!"

America doubted that he meant the world needed to attack England, but that certainly how the rest of the world took it.

"Yes, I say we put out armies together! I don't care how strong Opium has gotten, combined we can bring him down!" China was certainly getting into all of this.

America blinked. "Take him down?"

Japan was nodding, "That makes sense. Throwing out combined strength at England-san could work. A very good probability."

Germany leapt to his feet, "Not just a probability! I don't care how powerful England's gotten, we will be able to defeat him!"

Everyone was nodding, actually agreeing for once. America almost felt bad about breaking it up.

"W-wait you guys!" he yelled over the chatter. All eyes were immediately looking at him. America shifted uncomfortably. "Maybe he hasn't shown us his whole army yet? We could be running straight into a trap!"

"I am willing to take that chance." China said. Everyone nodded their assent."

"But- No! You can't just run in like this!" America shouted.

Japan looked confused, "Are you alright America-san? Normally you would run into battle." His expression became thoughtful. "Perhaps you know something the rest of us do not?"

America fell silent, looking at the table. The others glanced at one another. America, not wanting to fight? That wasn't like him at all.

Germany took a step forward, "America, if you know something, spit it out."

America didn't say anything. He didn't know what to do. If he exposed England, there was a good chance he would be exposed as well. He couldn't let them know, but he couldn't let them attack England.

"You can't just run in blindly." He muttered. All of the others stared at him. Running in and firing blindly was America's specialty. Something was definitely wrong with the American. At his wits end, Germany stepped forward to shake some sense into America.

He was only an arms-length away from America when Canada threw open the door, crying out as loudly as his small voice could handle.

"G-Germany! England's attacking again!"

Germany looked at Canada in confusion. "So? Why would that-" His eyes widened as he realized what Canada was saying.

"He's attacking Berlin."

**(Authors Note: I got so much hate for attacking Germany from one of my friends. [she's a big Germany fan.] None-the-less, I needed to attack him at some point and this seemed like a good time.** **I really think that I'm going to get a lot of frustration in this story… I was prepared anyway.**

** So I am reaching the end of the story actually written down on paper, so the income of story will be seriously lessened. I've decided that I am going to start another story while I keep writing this one. [I am reaching the end of this particular story. In a strange way that makes me kinda sad.] There is a lot of stuff that I need to finish up in this story though. I would expect about 7 more chapters, more or less. But I am planning on a sequel to this so this isn't the last you will see of these particular characters.**

**Not much more to say here. So till the next chapter!**

**_Ciao!_****)**


	15. Chapter 15

**(Authors Note: Nothing to say.)**

Ch. 15

Germany bolted out of the room in a panic.

"Germany!" Italy cried out, standing up to run after his friend.

Japan reached out and grabbed Italy's arm, "You cannot help him. Let him fight on his own." He smiled sadly. "I actually can't believe I'm saying this, but perhaps the best thing for him to do now is to punch England in the face."

Italy's eyes widened, but he nodded and sat back down.

Germany couldn't believe the nerve of that Brit. He was slowly taking over the world and no-one really ever had the strength to fight back at all. Well, maybe it was time to take England down a notch.

He darted out of the White House - which was seriously becoming one of the only safe havens in the world – and was running to the airport.

** (Please ignore the fact that it would have taken Germany a lot longer to get from America to Berlin and just go with the story…)**

England stood in Berlin and looked around sadly. At least the injuries had been kept to a minimal. Germany hadn't been here to command his men, so they didn't put up much of a fight. England wondered briefly where Germany was. Only briefly, because a huge, flying raw potato hit him on the back of his head. Dazed, yet scowling England rubbed the back of his head in anger and looked behind him. He was met with the sight of an angry German storming toward him.

"You damn Brit! You have some nerve to attack Berlin! Just you wait until I get my hands on-" Germany froze when he got a good look at the sickly looking Briton. "Wha-What happened to you?"

Germany was in such shock he didn't notice the British soldiers surrounding him until they grabbed him with strange, inhuman strength.

The German didn't struggle, only watched as England rubbed the back of his head, right where his potato had hit him. England winced when his fingers brushed over the bump on his head. A souvenir from Berlin. A lone soldier cautiously offered to check his for any injuries. As soon as he laid a hand on England he was thrown off with a flurry of curses following him.

Germany blinked. England wasn't set off that easily. Well, other that with France but who didn't with him?

England looked at Germany with narrowed eyes for a moment before looking away.

"Sir? What do you want us to do with him?"

England didn't answer for a moment. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just-" he sighed, "Take him to the border. Put him on the next flight to America. But you don't go with him.

The soldiers stared at England like he was mad. Germany suspected he was as well. Letting a captured country just walk away? Granted, his country had fallen, but he was still its representative! That meant the German ways were still alive. To just let him go, that was insane.

"Are you sure about that sir? When the Prime Minister hears-"

"How the bloody hell would he find out?" England howled, completely losing it now. He whirled around in a circle, making eye contact with every soldier around him. "No-one here is to speak a word of this to _anyone_! Understand?"

Germany didn't know if it was loyalty or if it was the frightening look in England's eyes, but the mass of men around him started nodding and muttering 'yessirs'. England turned to leave when a lone voice rang out.

"No, sir."

England stopped and turned to look at the one who dared to speak out against him. He was fairly tall, with short blond hair. There was a glint in his sky blue eyes that was seen by everyone around him.

England took a step toward the man. "What?"

"I said no." The soldiers voice trembled slightly, "Releasing a valuable prisoner like this, it needs to be reported."

England looked coldly at his soldier. There was a dangerous edge to his voice when he spoke. "You are _my_ subordinate, you understand? _Not_ the Prime Ministers."

The soldier stared back at him with those blue eyes of his. England tried to name that light in his wide orbs. He knew he had seen that before somewhere. The soldier spoke, despite his friends trying to get his to hold his tongue. "I may work for you, but you work for the Prime Minister! This information must be passed on to him!"

England walked up to the soldier. He was just under an inch taller than England, but the Brit still managed to tower over the determined soldier. "Yes, I do work for the Prime Minister. But you work for me! You cannot defy _your_ superior officer!"

The soldier took a deep breath. "Watch me."

England's eyes widened at this man's bluntness. Using his shock to his advantage, the soldier turned and darted away. Knowing he wouldn't be able to catch the younger man in his sickened state, England simply pulled his pistol out of it's holster, and fired.

**(Authors Note: AHHHH! he fired the gun! Now did he actually shoot the guy? QUESTIONS!**

**Now, I really don't know how the British army works, or ****_any_**** army other than America's for that matter, [typical American, I know.] so I just used the information about the American army to write this, and even then my knowledge is fairly limited. I apologize if I got anything wrong [which is probably everything] but I tried… -_-U**

**And yes, Germany threw a raw potato at England. Not my best idea but hey! I bet it made you laugh! I need some funnies in with those feels.**

**Till the next chapter!**

**_Ciao!_****)**


	16. Chapter 16

**(Authors Note: oh England...)**

Ch. 16

The shot rang out around the clearing. Germany looked on with wide eyes as the man's body pitched forward onto the ground, blood pouring from the hole in his back.

England looked back at the guards holding Germany. "What are you doing waiting around here? Get him to a plane!"

The guards scrambled to follow their orders. Once they were over America the pilot would most likely have the German parachute out. It was far safer for the pilot than landing. England knew, even as much as America disliked the German, he couldn't turn him away. Not a fallen country.

England gazed at the dead man. Did he really shoot him? Was it him who pulled the trigger? Damn it, how much further could he fall before slipping into hell?

That glint in the man's eyes. He knew what it was. He had seen it so many times in Sealand. That glint of freedom, that one thing that England couldn't get. He couldn't make his decisions. He could only follow the Prime Ministers orders. That man could, and he did. He had that freedom. And England was the one who killed it. How much further did he have to fall before he could shoot someone like Sealand? Someone like America? Now that he thought about it, that man had looked an awful lot like the American.

England shook his head. He couldn't think like that. He sighed and walked over to his tent. He ducked under the flap and stood in front of the world map he had spread out on a table.

England grabbed a pen and drew an X on Berlin, marking it as a fallen city. He looked at the map and sighed again before exiting the tent. Next stop, Italy.

America put his head in his hands. He was sitting in the White House at a table with his President and Germany. Germany had just finished telling them both what he had witnessed in Berlin.

America could hardly believe it. England, shooting one of his own men? That was unheard of! Was it just the stress of the situation? Or, was it something else? Was that drug doing something more than influence his strength? A sudden thought jumped in the way of his train of thought.

A side effect. Mood-swings. Really drastic mood-swings. America wasn't affected by it, but England would probably become far more violent than he ever was before. But to shoot one of his own men. Things were going way too far.

The silence hung over the group of men until America raised his head.

"Well? What are we going to do?" When no-one responded, he continued. "We cant just sit back and watch anymore."

His President looked at America. "What do you expect us to do? Just rush in, guns ablaze like madmen?" He shook his head.

"England is losing it." Germany spoke up, "He's losing his mind."

The President looked at Germany. The German stared back, a challenge in his eyes. The President scowled. "How do we know he isn't going to stop? How do we know-"

"He isn't going to stop." Germany interrupted, "You want to know why? He's not going to stop because he is losing it. He shot one of his own men! And he's attacking Rome! He's almost taken Italy goddamn it!" Germany stood, hitting the table. "After Italy he's going to go after Poland, Greece, Turkey. He'll be able to take the countries in Africa as well." Germany leaned closer to the President. "He's not going to stop. Not until he had World Domination. Not until he has taken you America." Germany looked at the stunned American.

America looked away. England couldn't be so ruthless. Could he? From Germanys report, England had changed for the worse. Why was the drug affecting England so much more than himself? At first, America had just thought that he had built up more of a tolerance than England, but now he wasn't so sure. He hadn't been this crazy when he started.

America looked at his President. There was certainly some doubt in his boss's expression.

"He won't get past Russia." His President muttered.

Obviously sensing victory, Germany pressed his advantage. "Not necessarily. If he can take the rest of the world into his control, he can use their men in any way possible. If he can combine some of the military units out there, he has a fairly good chance of taking Russia."

Uncertainly flashed in the President's face, before he scowled and stood, facing Germany without flinching. "I'm not ready to fight. My country isn't ready for a war! You, Mr. Germany, are a guest here. You have no right to say when we go off to war!" He stormed out of the room, the door slamming behind him.

America watched as Germany stared at the closed door, before slowly sitting back down.

"Sorry Germany. He's just a little, stressed. He's been like this ever since England attacked France." America apologized.

Germany grunted, staring out the window.

America sighed, putting his head into his hands. As much as America didn't want to admit it, Germany was right. They needed to attack England, and they needed to attack soon. How much more of this was his boss willing to take? How much more can he watch before he can take action?

**(Authors Note: BUMBUMBUM! England is seriously about to go off the deep end. I sorta feel bad about making his do this…**

**So America's President was just some dude that I made up in my head. He has nothing to do with the current President of the USA. Just wanted to say that. In all honesty, if this was really happening, I think out president would have done something by now. Just saying. -_-**

**I think that I am really close to breaking through this case of Writhers Block. Which is a good thing. England, watch out because I am not done with you yet.**

**Not really much more to say here, so till the next chapter!**

**_Ciao!_****)**


	17. Chapter 17

**(Authors Note: Ok. I think Iggy needs some love. Now will he actually get some? Doubtful. Not yet. ON TO ITALY!)**

Ch 17

Is this really the right thing to do? What would happen if he just turned around? Went back to London? What was the worst The Prime Minister could do to him? What was the worst that could happen? He didn't even need to go to London. He could go somewhere else, go for help. He knew that America would take him. If anything, to put him in jail. But that was still better than what he was going to do here! So why didn't he?

Because he had no will to do it. England knew what he was doing was wrong, but he couldn't stop it. He was losing his mind, and he knew it. He didn't know what exactly was doing it. Whether it was the drug, his boss, or just the stress of the situation. If he thought about it for too long his head began to hurt. He thought about _anything_ for too long his head hurt. So he didn't think. He just did whatever he was told to.

Is that what his life had become? What was he now? A mindless drone, set on whatever task was set in front of him? No thought of right of wrong. No thought of whether he was hurting anyone. Just firing his gun, and taking countries. Robbing them of their power, and feeling it rush into himself.

So what was he now? A thief? He stole others power, taking it for himself. Or a murderer? Was it murder if you were ordered to kill? Or was it only a crime if you yourself were the one who had the thought? Either way, the other countries weren't very happy with him. It didn't really matter who thought of the crime. He was the one who committed it.

The vehicle he and a handful of men were riding in rolled to a stop and all of the soldiers rushed out into battle, England following them close behind. He stopped at the horrifying sight in front of him. Soldiers were obviously having fun out there. Bodies littered the ground, blood slowly dripping from multiple wounds. His man weren't looking at whether or not they were military or not, they just fired their guns. There was hardly any Italian military anyway, they weren't exactly known for their power in war. Any citizens trying to hide from the madness in buildings were being smoked out. Or some of the more impatient British soldiers were setting fire to the buildings, giving the citizens a choice of either burning, or being shot to death. This was far worse than Berlin.

England couldn't move for a moment. What was he doing? He was sentencing hundreds of innocent people to their deaths! For what? Power? That power wouldn't even be his! It would just go straight to his boss.

Emerald orbs swept across the scene. He hadn't been shocked like this in a long time. He hadn't felt _anything_ for a long time. All this was not right. It couldn't be. So why was he doing it?

Because he was told to.

"Orders?" A voice drew him out of his thoughts and back to the battlefield. His expression hardened once again as he turned to look at the captain standing at attention, waiting for his command.

England looked back at the burning city, looking at all the people running, burning, falling. But he didn't see any of their pain. He nodded. "Move towards their government building. Lets make this fast."

The captain turned, shouting at his men to move forward. England followed them, not seeing any reason to get his hands dirty.

**(Authors Note: I know this one is short. Really short... Sorry about that, but it was probably the most difficult one to write as well. And I really don't think I did a good job either. Tell me what you think, cause this chapter was just something I pulled out of thin air there. I just suddenly wanted to have a chapter with an attack in it. Not much battle, but I'm saving that for later! Hopefully I will get another chapter out today. Depends on how much time I have with the computer.**

**I just wanted to mention how much this story has grown. I never thought I would get this many people reading my story! (Hyped at 30. Did not have high expectations. XD)**

**Anyway, thanks again for all you guys loyally reading and reviewing this! Cookies to all!**

**_Ciao!_****)**


	18. Chapter 18

**(Authors Note: Well then! I do get another chapter out today! Shocking! This one is long to make up for that last short one. Enjoy!)**

Ch. 18

**(10 months after the attack on Italy.)**

Something was off today. There was something missing. America scowled as he tried to figure it out. That missing presence in the room.

It certainly wasn't the fighting. There was plenty of that, just like any other World Meeting. Lots of stuff flying through the air as well.

It wasn't England either. No-one had seen him for months, except for on the battlefield. For some reason, that saddened the American. He never thought he would worry so much about the hardheaded Brit. He didn't miss him at all. He couldn't _miss_ him! That was ridiculous! Why would he even consider that! America shook his head. He had bigger problems to worry about. He couldn't waste his time on the enemy. He turned his thoughts back to the missing feeling in the room.

America just couldn't put his finger on it. Fighting was here, plus the airborne objects making their was across the room. England was out, probably at another battle-field right now. Then what could it-?

America leaned back and squeezed his eyes shut. He knew what it was. The level of power in the room. It was missing.

Normally countries emit a certain level of power, depending on their size and power of the land they represent. But now, all but one of the people in the room had no control of their people. Their power was gone, taken by a certain English 'gentleman'.

America didn't pay any attention to the fighting going on in the room. Everyone was fighting about how to defeat England. None of that made any sense. None of them had any armies to fight with. He was the only country left that hadn't been invaded or taken. Both Canada and Russia were the others who had yet to fall, and they were away fighting England's armies. America was a little frightened for his 'brother'. Countries don't have DNA, but Canada and himself had been discovered at the same time. Anyway, America had always considered Canada as his brother.

America did his best to stop worrying, and to focus on the discussion in front of him. The very _loud_ discussion. Germany was at the head of the table, yelling at everyone to calm down. No surprise there.

"We can't just hide! This may be a safe haven now, but America cant hold out forever! Even Russia doesn't have the men to fight the world!" Germany gave up on shutting them up and just added his ideas to the mixing pot.

Japan looked up at the frustrated German. "What do you suggest we do? We don't have nearly enough men to rival England-san." His voice was hollow. Japan was very recently conquered, Japan had come straight to Washington D.C. after his capitol Tokyo was captured about a month ago. He was still having trouble adjusting to life as a fallen country.

Germany shook his head at Japan's comment. "Maybe we don't if we simply attack recklessly. But what if we sneak in? American's are pretty good at mimicking the British. We could hide some weapons on them, get into London and then-"

"And then what?" America had enough. He stood and glared at Germany. "It's a pretty good plan, except for two things. One, I can't believe you would even suggest that I am _anything_ like that Brit! Please, that's just offensive! And second, you can't control my armies! You talk about running into battle, but _you_ have no men to speak of! Everything anyone has said in here is completely dependant of my agreeing to letting you control my soldiers! I haven't said yes to anything!" America stood with his hands in tight fists at his sides.

The other countries sat in shock. They all had assumed that the American would jump at the opportunity to help, to be the hero. What was wrong this time.

Germany frowned. He remembered that America was reluctant to agree to fighting in the last meeting as well. He made a mental not to confront him about it later.

America's outburst had shocked many of the countries to their usual selves. Japan in particular wasn't looking as emotionless as he was a minute ago.

"America-san," Japan began nervously, "Are you saying that you will not fight England-san? He had nearly taken the entire world now."

"I know!" America cried, "I just- I can't just- Oh god damnit!" He fell back into his chair, letting his head fall forward into his hands.

The room was silent for a moment. Germany struggled to understand what the reason could possibly be for America to be acting this way. Was he really striving for neutrality in all this? It wasn't like he was sticking up for England or anything, but he certainly didn't want to go to war.

Switzerland was one of the only countries that looked at all sympathetic toward America. He had been taken after Italy. Even his centuries of neutrality, he was talking about war. He spoke up, filling the silence. "I don't want to go to war either America. Trust me, if I had my way, I would be staying out of this conflict and would be at home right now!" Switzerland narrowed his eyes as he continued, ""But I don't have a home to go to right now. None of us do! This is one of our last refuges America, _your_ country! And your just going to sit here? While we wait for England's army to come? This is turning out to be World War Three America!"

America coloured slightly at the mention of England. He shook his head violently. "It's not my decision! Trust me, if I could help…" his voice trailed off.

Germany glowered at the American. He was still holding something back. What would be that important to him? Why would he hide on of the enemies weaknesses? Of course, the answer was right in front of him.

He stood up, "America, could I talk to you outside? If that's alright with everyone else of course." Germany scanned the countries with his ice-blue orbs. No-one objected, though more than one of them trembled slightly. France in particular seemed a bit frightened, and literally _pushed_ the American out of his seat.

America walked out of the room with Germany. He closed the door right as the room erupted into sudden chatter.

"Damn idiots." Germany muttered. "They'll never be able to agree on anything."

"They seem pretty agreeable on the current situation." America mumbled. He didn't raise his eyes to meet Germanys.

Germany decided to go straight to the point. "America, you remember in the last meeting when Canada interrupted us, you were about to tell us something about England."

Now America looked up, confused. "What? I don't think I was going to do that."

Germany scowled, "well lets just pretend you were. Just-. America, we need to know what is going on."

America shook his head, "Germany, dude I can't just spill all of-"

"America!" Germany shouted. The American's eyes widened and flickered over to the door. Germany scowled. Of course. They didn't want to alarm anyone. "Listen," He started in a calmer tone, "We need to know what is going on. If you're keeping something from us. That information could change the whole war effort."

Germany could plainly see America struggling. He wasn't sure why this was so difficult. What was holding him back?

The American looked up at Germany nervously. "A-alright. But it's kinda a long story."

Germany raised an eyebrow. That was surprisingly easy. "Well we don't have a lot of time. Why don't you give me the short version?"

America nodded, though he was obviously still uncomfortable with this. "The short version. Well I suppose a summary of this is well, I'm on drugs." Germany blinked in surprise. Before he could say anything America continued, "Please, just let me talk. I just want to say what I have to. Then you can ask questions."

Germany hesitated. There were already a multitude of questions he wanted to ask the American. He eventually relented, nodding, and preparing himself for a lengthy explanation.

**(Authors Note: Alright! So America's and England's secret is out! Now how is that going to help them? I have no idea yet.**

**Again, this one was long. I just couldn't find a place to end the chapter before this. Anyway, I have reached the end of the story already written down, so I'm going to take a little break for a while. I may start the other story I told you about before. Maybe. I gotta catch up on my reading too… Summer! Still stressful.**

**See you in the next chapter!**

**_Ciao!_****)**


	19. Chapter 19

**(Authors Note: I know this one took a while to get out… I apologize, but I have reached the point where I am now writing typing, then posting. Unlike before where I had already written ahead. Unfortunately, I am having a bit of trouble getting some details into the story. I know where I want to take it, but getting from point A to point B is not as easy as one would think. Anyway, I've kept you long enough, the story continues!)**

Ch. 19

Germany was not disappointed. America's explanation took no less than five minutes to complete. It was, as he expected, rather tedious. But it did answer a lot of questions.

America stood with his eyes fixed on the floor. Germany was actually surprised that America had shared as much as he did. He didn't think that he could ever get this much information out of the prideful American. Especially when that information painted him in such a bad light. He certainly wouldn't be seen as the hero right now.

But the news he had received. He couldn't quite believe it. Just the idea that America would ever be pressured into something like that. It was insane.

Germany took a deep breath. "Right then." The sound of his voice drew America's gaze away from the floor to look Germany in the eye. "So to summarize everything, your boss made you take drugs about 150 years ago."

America nodded.

"You've been addicted ever since."

Another nod.

"And now, through you, England has gotten a hold of this stuff as well. Now with it, he is taking over the world."

America opened his mouth to protest, but hesitated. Deciding it would be better just to go with it, he shut his mouth and nodded.

Germany hesitated a moment before speaking. "Right then. So, we may need to-"

"Veeeeee?"

Both of the countries whipped around to see Italy standing in the open doorway. His mouth hung wide open in shock. America shot a panicked glance inside the room before Germany was able to move Italy out of the way and shut the door. Thankfully, it didn't look like anyone else had over-heard their conversation.

Germany looked at the shocked Italian who was staring at America. He grimaced. He would have preferred to break the news to everyone at once. Not one at a time.

"Germany?" Italy was looking a little scared. "What do you mean he gave drugs to England?"

"That is what I said." Germany looked past Italy to look at the closed door. He could detect no sound beyond it. Not good. Germany looked at America. "Do you want to explain it to them, or do you want me to do it?"

America's eyes widened at Germany's words. "W-what do you mean? I never said that-"

"America, they need to know too. If we do go to fight against England, they need to know this information." Germany tried to reason with him.

"But my boss hasn't agreed to war yet! We could them and we may still may not be able to go fight!"  
"Who cares about your boss?" Germany was getting annoyed. "You're the country. You have to be able to do something!"

"I can't!" America shook his head. "I just can't do that!"

"America!" Germany grabbed the American, shaking him. "Do you realize what will happen if you don't do this? England could succeed! He could succeed in taking over the world! Think about what that means!" Germany couldn't believe he was bringing America's hatred of British food into this argument. "Tea and scones everywhere! He would have the power to outlaw fast-food! McDonalds America!"

America blinked, his mouth wide open in shock. Germany felt a surge of triumph. It actually looked like he may convince America to go to war. Then the American narrowed his eyes.

"Is that all you think I care about?" He asked angrily, 'I care about the lives that would be lost! As horrid as your prediction sounds." He paused to shiver. "The consequences are still horrible even if we do go to fight."  
"America, you can't ignore this! Not like World War two!" Germany hated talking about that war. He had done awful things in that war, even if he hadn't exactly known what was happening behind the scenes. He himself had still helped kill those innocents, and he was still getting over it. But right now, he really needed to hit America where it hurt. "You didn't do a damn thing until your harbor was bombed! You were just going to wait out that war! Well you can't just sit this one out!"

America scowled and opened his mouth to reply, before an American officer ran over to them. They waited impatiently as the officer bent over and caught his breath. He straightened up and saluted.

"Sir, the commander of the Canadian army, Matthew Williams has just arrived in D.C."

"What?" America looked at him in shock, "What about the war? Did he drive the British troops away?"

The officer hesitated before shaking his head. "I'm afraid not sir. The Canadian army was defeated at Ottawa. They managed to send Matthew Williams here, but he is injured. He is at the hospital now."

America blinked. Canada, injured? In the hospital? America started walking for the door before Germany grabbed his arm. "America, what about-" He stopped when America looked back at him. His face was scarily angry. But he was obviously confused about all this.

"I am going to see my brother." America spoke. It wasn't so much a request as it was a demand. "The war plans can wait."

Germany hesitated before releasing the American, watching as he hurried away.

Italy walked up to the German. He had been surprisingly quiet throughout the argument. He spoke now. "So, what are we going to do about England?"

Germany looked down at Italy for a moment before looking back at the door America had disappeared out of. "I'm going to follow America. See if I can convince him to go to war. Then we attack England."

Italy nodded. "I don't really want to fight, but I will with you Germany."

Germany felt his face go red. He looked down again at the petite Italian beside him. Then he smiled. "I know." He followed America down the hallway, leaving Italy in the hallway.

How could he do this? He had practically helped raise Canada for half of his childhood! Canada was family! But then what did that say about England? Would he have stopped if he had been there instead of Canada? What was he to England? Was he still important to him? Was he still considered family?

The taxi rolled to a halt. America barely remembered to pay the driver before jumping out. He rushed into the hospital, almost running into several people.

The nurse at the front desk looked up at him, smiling. "What do you need honey?"

"Ca- Matthew Williams." America gasped. "I need to see him."

She nodded. "Are you a relative?"

"His brother."

The nurse looked at him for another moment. She could see this man was desperate to see his brother. She nodded. "We'll save the paperwork for later. Follow me."

America nodded. As he followed the nurse down the hallway, his mind continued to whirl.

If England would hurt Canada, would he hesitate to hurt him? Was he still family to the Brit? Was he still his little brother?

But then, did he even want to be England's little brother? Putting the war aside, what did he want England to see him as? A brother? A son?

Or, did he want to be seen as something more? Something more precious?

"Here we are." The nurse stopped in front of a closed door. "Please don't wake him. This patient certainly needs his rest."

America nodded, pushing open the door. He was greeted by darkness. Stepping inside the door clicked shut behind him, shutting out the light from the hallway. Not waiting for his eyes to adjust, America felt his way around the room until he found the bed. He reached out, feeling for Canada's hand. Only once he found it and held it gently in his grasp did America wait for his vision to catch up with him.

It took what felt like an eternity before he could see his poor brother lying on the bed. Even in the darkness, he could see the bruises that had bloomed under Canada's pale skin.

He looked bad. Not as horrible as America had pictured in his mind's eye, but still not looking great. There were no visible major wounds, but there were multiple cuts, burns, and bruises. Although it couldn't have felt that great, America suspected the only thing keeping the country in that bed was the all-too-recent shock of losing his country. Losing his home. America knew Canada would feel absolutely awful once he woke up. Nothing was more important to him that his country. His people.

America gently squeezed the limp hand cradled in his own. He looked so vulnerable. So innocent. What was England thinking? How could he hurt someone so easily? Someone so close to him? Canada was never a violent person. Even when they were younger, back in their colonial days, Canada would start to cry at even a little squirrel's death.

He was so kind. So gentle, yet this had happened to him of all people. He was hurt, and torn away from his home. His power as a country, stolen. America could feel it. Canada had a different kind of power from other countries. It was never quite the same, so he had always been able to pick out the Canadian in a crowd. But now, he couldn't feel his power anymore. It was gone. America was so deep in thought, he barely reacted when the door opened, and a figure walked into the room.

Germany stood awkwardly at the side of the room. America looked so upset. It was difficult to go up and talk to him about the war.

But he needed a decision from the American. Germany had scarcely taken two steps forward before America looked up at him. Most of the anger was gone from his gaze, leaving pain and confusion. But the longer he looked at America, the more the anger returned. The more it swallowed up the more innocent feelings. Before too long, Rage had returned in the American's face, and Germany could guess whom it was directed at.

Germany waited as America stood, releasing his hold on Canada. He never took his eyes off of Canada.

"You're here for my answer aren't you?" America's voice was hollow, despite his angry expression.

"Yes." Germany spoke softly. He really did feel bad about pushing this onto America, but he really didn't have a choice. They needed to strike at England. And they needed to strike soon.

"My answer-" America's voice wavered. He looked at Canada's sleeping form for another moment before looking at Germany.

"Is yes. My answer is yes. I will go to war against England."

**(Authors Note: BUMBUMBUM! America has finally agreed to go to war! What will happen with England now? And what about Russia? What will happen with him? Stay tuned to find out! [Since when did I become a TV show director? Oh well…]**

**I think the next chapter will be about England. We haven't visited him in a while and I miss him.**

**I apologize if the transitions between characters was confusing, but I did the best I could without writing POV. I don't like to do that… Many reasons concerning that…**

**Anyway, I just wanted to clear up some of the America and Canada being bros confusion. [because I know a few people who would be greatly confused by that concept.] In my mind, America and Canada where found at approximately the same time, by both England and France. And since England beat France out of Canada, he would have had to take care of Canada as well as America. Time for brotherly bonding! Anyway, they would have been raised as brothers, so that's what I write them as. Sorry if you don't like that, but it probably wont be mentioned much anyway.**

**Sorry again it took so long to update this! I'm working on writing the story now, trust me. I'm just a little more busy than I was when I first started the story in the school year. That's when I would write in class when I was bored. [Please do not do that… I sorta almost failed history because of that… history of all things… Hetalia why u no teach me more?]**

**Please, Review like and follow! The more people I know are reading my story, the more motivated I am to get these updates out!**

**Till the next chapter!**

**_Ciao!_****) **


	20. Chapter 20

**(Author's Note: HEY! ITS BEEN A WHILE! I'm watching Paint it White while I'm typing this, so I'll talk at the end :P)**

Ch. 20

The drive back to the White House was silent. Germany could tell America needed a little space. He had practically been radiating anger as he stalked out of the hospital. By the time Germany himself had gotten outside, America had already hailed a cab. The American didn't so much as look at him the entire time, seeming to be too buried in thoughts to really register what was happening around him. Germany suspected he would have to pay for the cab.

Germany wondered what had prompted America to agree to war. He had been so adamant on remaining neutral, it was a little surprising he had so quickly agreed at the hospital. Germany hadn't even needed to say a word. Of course, he suspected it had to do with Canada. Either it scared him into action, or it got him mad enough to fight. Or maybe, just brotherly instinct? Though he would never admit it aloud, Germany would probably react similarly to America now if this had happened to Prussia. As annoying as he was, the obnoxious Prussian was still his brother. Still very important to him. And it was no secret that America and Canada shared a similar relationship.

A sudden thought suddenly struck the German. He would go to great lengths to protect his older brother. He would kill for him if necessary. So just how far would America go, to get revenge for Canada?

"He certainly seemed upset. And considering he sees poor Canada as family. I can't imagine he will be very happy to see Canada hurt."

"Still. It's nearly an hour. Doesn't it only take about ten minutes to get to the hospital from here? You would think Germany would have gotten him to come back by now."

"You know how stubborn America can be. It may take a bit more effort that it would to get _you_ to move."

"Pardon me? Just what are you implying?"

Italy frowned at the rest of the countries. Ever since America and Germany left, they had been arguing amongst themselves. Not much surprise there, what bothered Italy was the things they where arguing about.

Many of the countries had over-heard America's confession. It didn't matter that he had refused to tell anyone else, the rest of the world already knew. Whether it was straight from the American's mouth, or from nations gossip, the news had gotten around. Italy hadn't noticed how much the world liked to gossip until now.

Italy was one of the few who wasn't talking about it. In fact, he wasn't really doing anything at all. He was sitting near the door, waiting for Germany. He was being so un-Italy-like, it was actually prompting some countries to come up to him and ask if he was feeling alright. Each time, Italy had responded the same way. With a nod and a glance at the door, hoping Germany would walk through it.

It took almost two hours, but walk through that door he did. Right behind America.

A very angry America.

At the sound of their entrance, many nations turned to stare. No-one moved for a second. Then the room erupted into chaos. Everyone was shouting questions at America.

Questions about Canada, about the war. Questions about America's neutrality, and about his future plans about fighting. But the main questions being shouted were about the drug.

What was it? How could he agree to take it? Why would he tell England about it? Did he feel responsible about the war because he gave the drug to England?

From his little experience in America, Italy thought they all were acting much like the American's media. And people called _Italians_ contagious.

The countries continued to shout questions as America made his was to the table. Once he got there he turned to look at the crowd of countries before him. He and Germany had discussed briefly what he needed to do here while coming to the meeting room. America took a deep breath before shouting.

"EVERYONE, SHUT-UP!"

His outburst quieted the countries. Usually it was Germany shouting at all of them.

America decided to answer most of their questions before proceeding "Alright, first off, yes I am going to war. But I have my own plan! You aren't taking control of my armies! Second, I'm not going to answer to any of you about the drug. Seriously people, it's my private info! I'll tell you what you need to know, and nothing else! Third, Canada is fine. Fourth,-" America hesitated. "Uh, fourth is I need everyone's help with the plan." He finished quickly.

The room was silent. America was asking for help? Japan really wished he had his camera right now. Prussia laughed.

"Kesesesesesese! I wanna hear this plan! It better be awesome!"

America nodded. "But first, I need everyone who isn't going to help to leave. And I'm going to tell you, it is a little crazy."

Countries shared nervous glances and anxious murmurs, but no-one moved to leave. America broke into a wide grin. Though it didn't quite reach his eyes, it was a welcome change from the frowns and serious air that had hung around him.

"Cool! Now, before I start, does anyone know if we got footage from the attack on Canada? I want to see it."

China got up and went to grab it. After it was plugged it, all the countries turned to the large screen on the far wall to watch it.

It was very similar to the footage from France, except for the look on England's face. He looked almost pained to give each command. It was so different from the obviously ruthless man America had seen before. Then he was mad at England, but now. Now he could only feel pity for this man. What had changed?

The footage was almost over, when a big, green animal flew over on a pair of wings. If America watched it twice, he might've seen it resembled a large bunny.

The footage ended, leaving countries staring at the blank screen.

"What was _that _thing?" America asked in disbelief. When no-one answered he shook himself out of his shock and back to the matter at hand. "That changes my plan a little bit."

"A little bit?" Romano snarled, "How fucking much is a little bit?"

"Not too much." America reassured him. "I can still explain it now." He grabbed the remote to the TV and pressed a button. The screen flipped to a world map. He pressed another button and the map expanded onto the United Kingdom. America was mildly surprised he had been able to find it.

"Alright. I'm not going to sugar coat it for you, and I'm just going to say it now. Most of you are going to be decoys." America ignored the protests and just spoke louder. "I know you all want to go after England! But too many people would only arouse suspicion!" Objections died down as America spoke. "Come on guys, use your heads! Throw a decoy at them then send in the real strike force! Basic stuff here!"

"Then how do you know England-san will not expect it?" Japan asked.

America raised an eyebrow. "Dude seriously? When have I ever done something by the book? I always rush it head on! You should know this! He wouldn't expect it."

Japan nodded, satisfied.

Turning back to the screen, America continued his briefing. "Alright, so we don't have a lot of men, so all of my armies will have to go with the decoy. You all will go to Scotland's capital, Edinburgh. I've talked with Scotland, he's going to work with us. From there, you will go underwater to London. I really don't know if England is going to be there, of fighting against Russia, but his boss will be there. That's all we need anyway. So you all will go up and attack London from going up that big river, the uh Thames I think, while I and my little group will go and attack from land. I know multiple secret entrances that England showed me when I-I was his colony." America stumbled a bit over that last part. He continued, hoping no-one had noticed. "I've already chosen who is going to go with me. Germany and Italy. If they agree of course.

At the sound of Italy's name there where mutters of confusion. Italy wasn't exactly the strongest country in the group, everyone knew that. So why assign him on the most important part of the plan?

"Veee? But, why me?" Italy was just as confused as everyone else.

"Because you-" America hesitated. He wasn't sure how this was going to go over with the others. "You have something. I personally don't think England is as far gone as we had first assumed. He certainly didn't seem to enjoy invading Canada.

"He didn't look all to remorseful about attacking moi!" France pointed out angrily.

"No, but now you have to think about the drug. It may have been affecting him more then than-" America stopped talking suddenly, eyes widening.

Germany stepped forward. "America? What is-" He frowned at the sight of the American counting silently on his fingers. He froze again, staring into space. Germany walked forward to put a hand on America's shoulder.

"America, for the love of-" he was cut off again by America grabbing him.

"I-I didn't-" America cut off, releasing Germany and collapsing into a chair around the table.

Getting annoyed now, Germany stood in front of America, arms crossed across his chest. "America, what the heck is going on?"

America didn't lose that shocked expression as he spoke. "I haven't- the drug. I haven't taken the drug in- oh god. It has to be over a year now."

Germany didn't understand. "A year? But, shouldn't you have had a withdrawal attack by now?" then it dawned to him, "Unless you actually weren't addicted at all."

Now it was America's turn to be confused. "But I was taking this thing for hundreds of years. How could I not have been addicted after this long? I mean, look at England!"

"Perhaps it was just in your mind." Japan mussed. "Though I do not know why it did not affect you like it is England-san. Perhaps it just did not do anything to you?"

America stared. "Wha?"

"That makes sense Japan." Germany agreed. "America, it could just be how your body reacts to the drug. I mean, each country reacts differently to different things. It could just be that you rejected the drug completely, while England is getting a magnified effect."

"Maybe. But I still want to know-" America was cut off by the emergency loud speakers.

"Alfred! You and the other representatives need to get out of there! D.C. is under attack!"

**(Authors Note: Gosh I just needed to end there. Anyway, I actually wrote this when I was away on vacation without wifi about 2-3 weeks ago. I just now remembered that I had this written, and needed to get this up. Anyway, HERE IT IS!** **I know I said I wanted to make this chapter with Iggy, but It turned out to be this. The next chapter will have him. I will make sure of it.**

**Now, I was rereading this, and I realized just how out of character Italy was. Oh well, I wouldn't be acting right in this situation either.**

**And how did you like my drug explanation? I actually put a lot of time in America's plan and Japan and Germany's explanation, so I'm very proud of myself. If anyone is confused, just PM me. I really don't know if I'm going to revisit the drug theory until really later. (Which shouldn't be too much later considering I can sorta see the ending in the distance). Anyway, if you PM me then I'll give a more detailed explanation for you.**

**Reviews and favorites are appreciated!**

**_Ciao!)_**


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